This is rated NC-17 for explicit hetero sex. If you're
offended by such sexual situations, go no further; and
if you're looking for a plot, try a good mystery novel.
This is pure and simple Methos gratuity. :)

Methos is the property of Davis/Panzer, Rysher, et al,
and he'll have plenty of fun while I have him. MacLeod is also their
property, but he's not my major concern. Rebecca is the property of no-one
but herself, except for my half of the brain.

Lyrics to "Sex and Candy" by Marcy Playground are used without
permission. I make no profit from this story. Please don't repost,
forward or publish without my express permission. ::deep breath:: All
the pleasantries accounted for?? Onward!

The outside door slammed closed, and I heard thunking footsteps down
the hall. Oh dear. I knew the sound of those footsteps, and knew they
boded ill. There would be no sleep for me tonight.

Next came the brisk knocking at the door to my apartment. Crap.

Rebecca, my roommate, looked askance at me. I was closer to the door,
and hadn't moved. "Aren't you going to get that?"

"No," I chirped, lighting a cigarette.

The knocking turned to banging.

Sighing, Rebecca rose and opened the door.

"Beanie, we have to talk." Methos pushed past Rebecca and stood in
front of me, hands on his hips.

"Beanie?" Rebecca repeated incredulously.

"Out," I ordered. This was not the time to explain my childhood
nickname, nor how Methos had found it out. Smirking, she left the room.

"All right. What's the problem?"

Methos flopped down on the couch. "I want some action."

My eyebrows nearly shot off my forehead. "You have got to be joking.
You've had plenty of action lately!"

He snorted. "Oh, yeah. An ongoing slash series, that slash novella
that I can see drafts of littering your bedroom floor from here...
then you put me in a story with not one but THREE hot chicks, and
there's not even a tongue in sight. Sometimes, Beanie, a man just
wants..." He paused dramatically, scratching his slightly stubbly
chin, turning to look me in the eye. "Don't make me say the 'p' word."

"Are you finished?" I ground out my cigarette. Quitting was just NOT
going well. "What exactly do you want, in 50 words or less?"

"Look, Beanie, I haven't anything left to blackmail, bribe, or
threaten you with. I throw myself at your mercy."

I eyeballed him sternly. "Mercy you won't find here. But I will
write your story, on one condition."

"Name it, and it's yours."

"You may never EVER call me 'Beanie' again."

He sighed, acquiescing. "All right. It's a deal."

Methos threw his ringing alarm clock across the room and sat up,
blearily rubbing his eyes. Ordinarily he'd see no point in heading up
to campus at the absolutely god-awful hour of 9 am. In this case,
however, it was necessary to his survival. If he did not have the
exams graded for his 3 o'clock lecture, his students would tear him
limb from limb. It was only fair, he supposed. The exam in question
had taken place almost three weeks ago.

A quick shower, and some clothes. He carelessly threw on A&F khakis, a
black tee shirt, and green sweater, then stuffed his feet into his
boots and brushed his teeth. Where the hell is my knapsack? He tripped
over it a moment later. Damn. This was shaping up to be a day from hell.

Methos was in a royal mood by the time he arrived at the university
around ten-thirty. He'd gotten stuck in traffic about a block from his
building, and there had been no outlet from the gridlock. The students
whose papers he was supposed to be grading had best be prepared for
unforgiving criticism. The old man was in no state to be generous.

The elevator was out of order. The final insult. He trudged up the
seven flights to his office, muttering descriptive curses all the way.
Maybe there would be a computer crash and fire and the horror would be
complete.

Reaching the seventh floor at last, he collected his mail and fumbled
for his keys. But when he pushed the key into the lock, his office
door swung open.

"Good morning, Doctor." The woman in his chair with her feet on his
desk smiled brilliantly. "I see you defended your thesis adequately."

Charlie Burke, late of the Bay Area Archives (Special Collections
Department), crossed her ankles and stuck a lollipop in her mouth.
"It's nice to see you, too."

"I'm overwhelmed," he admitted, dropping onto a chair. He surveyed his
guest. She looked much like she had nearly a year before -- masses of
auburn curls, freckles spattered across her nose and cheekbones, long
tanned legs ending in running shoes. She wore cutoffs similar to ones
he'd last seen her in (or out of, truth be told) and a San Francisco
Symphony tee shirt.

"You look good," Charlie said.

"You do too..." Methos replied, fighting off a blush. "What brings you
to Seacouver?"

"Ah." She took out her lollipop with a slurping sound and grinned.
"Librarian's symposium type-thing. I'm skipping an excruciatingly
boring lecture on LC filing right now."

Methos laughed. "I've promised my students that their exams would be
done by three, and I've not even started."

"Let's avoid responsibility together, then." Charlie slurped the
lollipop back into her mouth. "What have you been up to?"

"School, work..." He shrugged. "You?"

"Work, work..." She mirrored his shrug. Slurp. "I'm about ready for
some play." Her green eyes danced. "Feel like playing, Adam?"

The lollipop was definitely an interesting prop, and the sucking sound
sent a jolt of electricity straight to his crotch. She surveyed him
with laughing eyes.

"Problem?"

"You're in my chair," he growled.

Slurp. "Move me."

With a deeper growl Methos launched himself at her, knocking her feet
off the desk. He grabbed her by the upper arms and hauled her to her
feet, slamming her against the wall. "Gimme that," he snarled,
grabbing the lollipop stick and pulling.

She bit down, her eyes grew brighter. She shook her head. "Uh-uh."

He pulled again on the stick, simultaneously pressing his hips to
hers. Her back arched automatically. "Open your mouth," he said
silkily, "and give me the lollipop."

She shook her head again, and he pressed harder, letting her feel his
erection through their clothing. Her eyes widened, but she did not let
go.

"Come on, Charlie," he purred. "I haven't seen you in almost a year,
can't you play nice?"

In answer she crunched down on the candy in her mouth, chewing
methodically. Then she spit the stick daintily away, and it fell
unnoticed to the floor. Methos captured her mouth with his own,
reveling in the taste of grape candy on her tongue. She kissed him
back hungrily, pulling him more firmly against her. He pulled back
only long enough to breathe, then kissed her again, harder, hands
sliding up under her tee shirt.

"Adam," she gasped.

"What?" He lifted his head, looking into her face.

"Um..." She blushed spectacularly. "Could we go... I mean, somewhere..."

It dawned on him suddenly that their previous encounter had taken
place on her office worktable; now it appeared that they'd be going 0
and 2 and doing it on his office floor. He quickly calculated the time
it would take to reach his Bayside apartment, traffic snarl considered,
and came up with too damned long. But MacLeod was in New York 'til
tomorrow, and the loft was much closer...

He leaned in for another bruising kiss, and then grabbed her hand.
"Come on."

They bounded down the seven flights of stairs, and Charlie stole a
kiss while he fumbled with his car keys. Methos broke every traffic
law he could to get to the loft, and made it in a record five minutes.
More making out like teenagers in the elevator (thank the powers that
be that the dojo was closed while Mac was out of town) and then...

He willingly met her request, scooping her up in his arms to carry her
back to MacLeod's bed. Forgive me, my friend, he thought quickly. I'll
wash the sheets and buy you dinner.

Charlie cupped the back of his head and brought his mouth back to
hers, nimble fingers descending upon the fly of his khakis. He
meantime unbuttoned her shorts and was gratified to find that she
still didn't affect underwear.

Her fingers were doing tantalizing things to his cock through the silk
of his shorts, but necessity beckoned, and he removed her hands long
enough to pull her shirt over her head. No bra this time, either.
"Touch me again," he whispered huskily, nuzzling her neck. She moaned
and reached back down, trying to push his pants down over his hips, He
helped her, then kicked free of both his boots and the constricting
material, settling comfortably between her legs.

He dropped burning kissed along her neck and collarbone, barely able
to concentrate as she stroked his cock. She ran her palm up and down
the length of it, then rubbed the head gently with her thumb in a
distracting circular motion. When she raised her thumb, slick with
his pre-come, to her lips and sucked it like the erstwhile lollipop,
he almost passed out.

He swatted her hands away when she reached for his cock again, sliding
down her body to nibble at her breasts. She wriggled under his hands,
breath coming in short gasps, as he sucked and licked at each nipple
'til finally she cried out. Satisfied, he moved lower.

Ooh, the navel ring was new. He tugged at it experimentally with his
teeth, and was rewarded with a rasping moan. "Sensitive?" he chuckled.
She arched upward into his mouth in answer, pushing down on his head
with her hands.

He tongued her navel some more, enjoying her response: soft moans and
muted cries from the back of her throat. Lower, then, and we'll see
what sort of sound that produces.

Charlie gasped at the first touch of his tongue to her clitoris.
Smiling to himself, he worked the sensitive flesh roughly, biting
here, licking there, sucking... He felt a tremour in her thighs as he
plunged his tongue deep inside her and she cried out as her orgasm
washed over her senses.

Back up now. Methos paused to suckle her breasts, to nibble at her
neck, then dipped down for a breathless kiss. She arched upwards, her
hands on his ass, wriggling under his touch. "Come on now," she
whispered raggedly. "Don't make me beg for it."

An animal sound escaped his throat as her words hit him, the force of
wanting her making his cock jump. He slid slowly into her, then had to
clutch at her shoulders to regain control. Oh yes. Hot wet flesh
surrounded him, she wriggled and moaned at his every movement. He felt
like God when he was inside her.

"Adam...":

"Charlie, I..."

"Harder."

Oh, yes, harder I can do. Her head raised off the pillow with every
thrust, her nails were digging into his back and it felt so good... so
right at she hissed his name and begged him to fuck her harder. She
came again, practically screaming; again, biting his shoulder and
finally, oh yes, this more pleasure than any one man deserves....
Methos' world contracted, a single sensation drowning out all others,
eliminating all thought. He thrust once more and collapsed,
sweat-soaked, head on her breast.

Minutes passed, who knew how many? He levered off and out of her,
rolling onto his back. The ceiling was spinning.

"Adam." She reached over, stroking his chest lightly. "That... made
waiting a year worth it."

"Indeed," he agreed with a chuckle. "Come here."

Obediently she rolled on top of him, kissing him tenderly. "Do you
suppose," she continued, "we should maybe do this more often?"

Methos chuckled again. "Mmm," he agreed, running his fingers up and
down her back. "There's a... position opening up at the university."

Charlie lifted her head from his shoulder, looking at him
speculatively. "Really."

"The head librarian at the research library is retiring... I thought
of you when I heard about it."

"I see." Charlie rolled back off him, propping her head up on her
hand. "Are you saying you'd want me around?"

"Well, yeah." He hitched himself up, leaning back on his elbows. "I
know we don't know each other well..."

"Hardly at all," she interjected.

"But we seem to have a certain... chemistry..."

"I'll say."

"...and we have a lot in common..."

"Adam."

"What?"

Charlie smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'll apply. The rest
is up to them."

"Wonderful." Methos pulled her back to him, capturing her lips with his.

Charlie smiled against his mouth, running her hands down his sides.
"Do you want to... mmm... try another chemistry experiment... ah...
right now?" he asked.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Good." He flipped her over, grinning wickedly. He licked her
collarbone gently, making her squirm, then began licking slowly lower,
lower...

"Crap." Methos lifted his head suddenly, looking wildly around. His
sword was in the fucking truck...

"What?" Charlie's face grew concerned.

"I heard something..."

As if on cue, the sound of the elevator gears grew louder, and Methos
scrambled off the bed, grabbing for his pants. Charlie's eyes widened,
and she snatched up a pillow to hold in front of her just as the
elevator grille clanged up.

Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod took his hand off his sword hilt
and dropped his suitcase on the floor. Methos was crouched on the
floor by the bed, a pair of pants in his hands, an expression that
could only be described as "deer in headlights" on his face. On the
bed reposed a lovely young woman, auburn curls tangled and sweaty,
her modesty only protected by a pillow.

"Ah... Adam?"

"Yeah, MacLeod... you're home early." Methos held his position on the
floor, panic etched on his features.

"Who's your friend?" Duncan asked conversationally.

"Charlie Burke," she offered. "I'd get up and shake your hand, but I
seem to be suffering from a case of extreme nudity."

MacLeod began to laugh, gasping for breath between guffaws, holding
onto the frame of the elevator grille for support. "I'm going to step
out," he said finally. "Get dressed, and then, Adam... explain."

It was a good deal, and he took it. Explanations, once offered, were
accepted with some more chortling and an invitation to dinner. Methos
doubted he'd live this one down for some time...

a small explanatory note, by request: as a child, i
was very tall and thin. string-bean, right? also, i had this doll i dragged
everywhere, which was a bean-bag doll, that i called beanie. between the
two, my childhood nickname became 'beanie'. methos found out when we were
hanging out with my brother to do research for an as-yet-unposted novella
(my bro is a gay paramedic, i wanted the main omc to be a gay paramedic)
and channing called me beanie. methos has tortured me with it ever since.
and now you know the rest of the story.